Tumblr OneShots
by TheTruthBetween
Summary: Random Dentiss one-shots I write in a hurry and post to Tumblr. Decided to post them here, too.
1. Fool

Doyle/Prentiss fic for Kelsey, because CBS skipped over the Doyle episodes in reruns.

Title: Fool  
>Rating: R?<p>

"Je peux pas tu donner de plaisir avec des menottes."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth Emily knew she'd made a mistake. The spark in Ian's eyes brought back a flash of memory of that one weekend...

He'd kept the weekend free in his schedule and simply told her to do the same, giving her no clue as to his plans. He'd spirited her away to a cabin in the middle of the Alps, and told her she could scream as loud as she wanted. She'd thought she'd been made. Until she saw condoms, lube, a vibrator and a can of whipped cream on the bedside table.

By the time the weekend was over, her voice was hoarse from over-use, her wrists deeply bruised from the handcuffs he'd held her captive with — lined as they were, they were still too rough for such extended time in them. She could barely walk, and stumbled on the way to the car, prompting Ian to pick her up and carry her, gently setting her into her seat and brushing her hair away from her face. He'd kissed her, murmured that he loved her, and walked around the car to settle in beside her.

All of this flashed through her memory in the time it took Ian to walk around behind her, and a familiar warmth pooled in her belly.

Her hair was brushed aside, Ian's face came close to hers, then pain shot through her as his fingers dug into a pressure point, and she gasped.

"You really think I'd let you fool me twice?"

Emily's voice trembled as she shook her head slightly. "I just wanted..." To feel you again. To touch you. For you to touch me. Beg for me again. Make me beg for you again.

"I know what you wanted. A way into my head. But I've changed the locks. So you're gonna suffer the way I suffered. This won't be the first time you've killed an innocent, but it will be the first time you have to watch."

No! Emily's eyes teared as Ian spoke, and she flinched when he yelled for Liam. She didn't want to fool him. She did so for her own survival, but she never wanted to fool him... She was always just a fool _for_ him.


	2. Deterrent

Inspired by the deleted scene from Lauren where Emily mentions Ian backhanding Declan off his bike, and, ironically, from me and Kelsey talking about how we imagine Ian to be romantic and a perfect gentleman with Lauren.

Title: Deterrent

The slap was unexpected. One minute they were yelling at each other, and the next, she was suddenly looking out the window, one eye reflexively watering. She slowly turned her head back to him. His hand was still raised in the air as he stared at her, like he couldn't believe that he'd just hit her.

Her blood boiled, and then her fist connected with his face, knocking him flat onto his ass.

He laughed, which only made her want to hit him again, but he grabbed her ankle and dragged her down to the floor with him.

"I hate you," she growled at him.

"I hate you, too," he replied, voice heated with something other than anger. His lips found hers and she opened to him, but refused to surrender, battling his tongue with her own.

Their clothing was shed quickly, and he managed to get her on her back for that first thrust, burying his arousal within her own. There was no pause to let her adjust, no moment to savor the feeling of her tight heat around him. He simply pounded away into her body, grunting with the effort, until she flung her body at him, taking him by surprise and forcing him to surrender his dominant position.

Astride him, she continued his punishing rhythm, her fingertips digging into his chest, head tilted back as she took what she wanted from him. She felt his fingers tighten on her hips and warned in a dangerous tone, "If you come, I'll kill you."

He groaned in reply, and moved one hand from her hip to where they were joined, finding the hard little nub with his fingers. Her body went rigid in an instant, a strained, gutteral scream escaping her parted lips, and in her moment of oblivion, he rolled them again.

She was only just beginning to relax when he found his release, his own loud groan muffled into her neck, and their bodies slackened together. Her knees shifted further out, allowing him to lay closer against her body, and his head bend down to rest against her breast. Fingers stroking his head lazily, she murmured, "I don't hate you."

"I know," he mumbled in reply. "I love you, too."

"But if you **ever** hit me again..." She let the warning trail off.

He lifted his head and smirked at her. "Hell of a right hook you have there, love. But not a very good deterrent, following it up with sex."

"Yeah, well... next time there won't be sex." She pulled his head back down. "Now either go to sleep or lets go to bed, because I could use a nap after that."


	3. Red Wine

Note: I apologize in advance for the excessively flowery paragraph. I'm sorry. It just happened and I couldn't fix it once it was there.

Title: Red Wine

Emily leaned back in the deep armchair and swirled her glass of red wine, allowing the scent to waft to her nose. She took a sip and let out an appreciative murmur. If there was one thing to be said for Ian Doyle, it was that the man had impeccable taste. And with Emily's wealthy, world-wide childhood, she could most certainly enjoy that aspect of his life.

The bedroom door opened and Emily let her head loll to the side, smiling at the man entering the room.

"You look comfortable," Ian observed with a little laugh, taking in the half-lidded expression of bliss on his lover's face.

"I am," Emily murmured, taking another sip from her glass. "This is excellent wine."

Stepping over to her side, Ian picked up the bottle from the table, taking in the label. "It should be," he said simply.

"Expensive?" Emily asked, setting the glass down briefly to stretch her arms over her head.

"Obscenely." Ian's eyes flared as he watched her. "I want to lick it off you."

Emily looked up at him, raising an eyebrow and licking her lips. "I was enjoying drinking it."

"Keep your glass. I'll use the bottle."

"You make a tempting offer." Emily picked up her glass again, smiling at Ian over the rim. "What if I wanted more than one glass?"

"You'll live." Ian's eyes narrowed at the game Emily was playing.

"It's **very** good wine." Emily made a show of swallowing a drink of wine, tilting her head back and letting her eyes fall nearly shut, sighing softly.

The glass was out of her hand and shattering on the floor in the next instant, and strong hands on her arms hauled her out of the chair. "You're pushing me," Ian breathed close to her face, "to my breaking point, Lauren."

"Good," Emily purred, closing the distance between them and nipping at his lower lip. Ian let out a growl and hoisted her into his arms, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. One hand went to her ass, holding her, while the other grabbed the wine bottle. He carried her to the bed and dropped her there, ignoring her delighted gasp. She liked it when he was a little rough.

The wine bottle went to the side table, and Ian's fingers turned to his belt, pulling it from his pants. Emily moved to begin undressing as well, but he stopped her with a sharp, "No." She squirmed on the bed and he knelt over her, pulling her arms above her head and through the headboard, cinching his belt around her wrists to hold her in place. She was already gasping.

By the time he'd grabbed the scissors and cut her out of her clothes, she was arched and straining against the belt, her legs moving restlessly against the blankets. With an evil smirk, Ian sat back on his heels, now between Emily's thighs. He grabbed the bottle of wine from the table, taking a long draught. After a moment of watching her, he leaned forward, lifting her head and letting her take a mouthful of the rich liquid as well.

Once she'd swallowed, he hovered over her chest and tipped the bottle, watching the red fluid pour over her pale breasts. He immediately captured one nipple with his mouth and blindly set the bottle back on the table.

A strangled sound left Emily's throat at the first touch of Ian's mouth to her skin, and her entire body tensed, arching up to press further against him.

Wine dripped from Emily's sides onto the bedspread, as Ian slid lips and tongue over her body in a frenzy he wasn't expecting. He'd planned on teasing her, drips of wine and little licks with his tongue, until she was begging for him. Until she was dripping for him. He'd planned to pour wine over her, to mix with her own wetness, and to gorge himself on the mingled flavors. He'd had plans for all of that, until that first taste.

"Ian," Emily chanted his name breathlessly, her head rolling back and forth, eyes squeezed shut as his mouth moved over her randomly, kissing, licking and nibbling at her skin. "Ian, oh God, fuck me."

Ian's head came up as he let out a growl, and he leaned forward to kiss Emily almost violently as his hands struggled with the fly of his jeans. It seemed to take forever before he was free to push the offending garment part-way down his thighs, but once they were out of the way, he wasted no time in thrusting into his lover's welcoming heat, drawing a groan from his own throat and a gasp from hers.

Emily's legs locked tightly around Ian's hips, her heels digging into his ass as he pounded almost recklessly into her, his shirt staining red as it rubbed across her nipples. A steady, if unconscious, stream of "oh God" and "fuck me" and "please, Ian" poured from her lips, interspersed with gasps and moans as he robbed her of her senses.

"Come for me," Ian growled into her ear. "Come for me, Lauren." His thrusts grew firmer, more determined, more desperate. "Now, Lauren. Come for me now."

And she did. Her body arched and tensed and shuddered beneath him, her legs locking in place, holding him deep inside her as a primal cry escaped her throat. He let go as soon as she did, grunting and groaning into her ear as he spilled into her, muscles flexing with each spasm of pleasure.

Slowly, they came down, and he slipped from her body as they laid together.

"Ian?" Emily murmured, once her voice came back, once her brain had begun to function again.

"Yes, love?" Ian's voice was slurred with pleasure, exhaustion and sleep.

"Please don't fall asleep. I can't feel my fingers."


	4. Vodka

Written for Kelsey, in like... 3 minutes. I was bored and requested prompts. Kelsey asked for Dentiss + vodka. This is what happened. :)

* * *

><p>Emily tipped her head back, downing the shot. The glass hit the bar and she nudged it in the direction of the bartender, standing before her with the bottle of Absolut. He refilled it. She drank it.<p>

She wasn't quite sure how many shots she'd had. Enough that it had long stopped burning her throat, and even without moving in the past few hours she was wobbling on the stool. She probably should have been cut off, but she'd slapped down a hundred and told him to keep 'em coming.

She'd cabbed to the bar, so it wasn't like she had to worry about driving home.

No, all she had to worry about was the ache in her torso and the burn on her breast. Figuratively, anyway. Both wounds had healed months ago.

It was easier to pretend that the physical hurt still bothered her than to admit that she was heartbroken.

Not heartbroken that He had tried to kill her. She deserved that. Heartbroken that He had died.

Been shot.

Murdered.

The small part of her that hates Him wishes it had been her. The rest of her, still so very much in love, wishes He was still alive.

Even if she had to hide for the rest of her life. Even if He continued to haunt her until the day she died. At least He would still live. At least she wouldn't have to survive with the pain of watching the light fade from His eyes.

At least she wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that He never knew that she really had loved Him. That she continued to love Him.

That she would never stop.

She drank another shot.


	5. Gun Sex

Prompt of "gun/sex" from Kelsey

* * *

><p>"Wasn't expecting to find you down here," Lauren commented, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.<p>

Ian lifted his head as he slid the magazine into his pistol. "Oh?"

"You haven't been to the range in months. Something bothering you?"

His lips twitched. "Nothing that can't be handled easily enough." He turned back to the target.

Sauntering up behind him, Lauren looked down the room, smirking at the cardboard cutout of one of Ian's business associates. It was already riddled with bullets. As she watched, Ian took aim, firing off nine perfect head shots before the chamber clicked, indicating all the bullets had been spent.

"Fuck me," Lauren murmured appreciatively.

Ian's head whipped around. "What?"

Looking up at him with glittering eyes, she repeated, "Fuck. Me." She bit her lip and stepped toward him. "Watching you fire a gun is so fucking hot, Ian. Especially when I know how good you are with your hands in other situations, too."

Ian's eyes narrowed slightly, taking on a calculating glint. Then without warning, he grabbed Lauren by the arm, turning her away from him and pushing her into the half-wall. Extra clips and bullets clattered to the ground on the other side, and Lauren grunted at the impact of her stomach against the unforgiving ledge.

"So you like what I do with my hands, hm, love?" Ian murmured, reaching around his lover to undo her pants and pull them down. She wasn't wearing panties, and her folds already glistened, and at that point he knew why she'd come looking for him in the first place.

"Yes I do," Lauren answered breathlessly, shifting her hips back.

"And you like the way I handle my... gun, do you?"

"Yes," she moaned.

Ian pressed the barrel of his pistol against his hand, making sure it was no longer hot, before trailing the smooth metal up the back of Lauren's right leg.

Gasping, Lauren's eyes flew open at the touch of the gun and she trembled.

The gun moved higher, higher... until it brushed between her thighs.

"Do you like the way I handle my gun?" Ian asked again, his tone the epitome of a smirk.

"Ian..."

"Answer the question, love."

Lauren bit her lip, thinking about it. She knew the pistol was empty, and she so wanted to come... "Yes," she whispered, shifting her feet further apart.

Ian chuckled and began to work the barrel of the gun back and forth, slipping between Lauren's folds and coating the metal with her wetness. Once she was whimpering and he was satisfied the gun was slick enough, he turned his hand, pointing the barrel upward and pressing it against Lauren's entrance. He applied steady pressure, and she keened as the gun slid inside her.

Panting, Lauren clung to the ledge, her eyes squeezed shut at the foreign sensation of the gun barrel. It was strange, it was fucked up, it was scary... and it was the fucking hottest thing she'd ever done. She rocked her hips.

"You like that, love?" Ian asked in a low voice, stroking into her shallowly. "You like being fucked with my gun?"

"Yes," Lauren gasped. "Oh god, Ian, yes, I like it..."

In response, Ian withdrew, causing his lover to gasp, "No!" and press back. Instead of sliding the gun back into her, he moved down, pressing the end of the barrel against her clit and swirling it in a circle.

"Ian!" Lauren shrieked, almost letting go of her death grip on the ledge.

"Hold on, love," Ian murmured, smirking and sliding back up, the gun slipping into her effortlessly this time. His free hand moved as well, fingers pressing firmly against Lauren's clit, grinding little circles against it.

The combination of the unforgiving metal filling her and Ian's fingers driving her mad took only seconds to bring her to climax, and she cried out as she shook.

Ian gently pulled the gun out, placing it on the ledge next to Lauren's arm as he pressed against her back, murmuring soothingly.

"Oh my god," Lauren whispered minutes later, still shivering a little. "That was..." She let out a shaky laugh.

Ian grabbed the gun again and tucked it into the waist of his jeans before helping Lauren get herself put together again. "That was a preview, love," he chuckled. "Let's go upstairs and I'll show you the main feature."


End file.
